


Stolen Kisses

by Goldy



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Angst, Dark, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-14
Updated: 2013-07-14
Packaged: 2017-12-18 07:31:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/877225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Goldy/pseuds/Goldy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What’s crossing universes after breaking the most fundamental rule of time travel? Nothing. Post-Waters of Mars.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stolen Kisses

The sleeves of his blue suit feel too starched and his tie too tight. He reaches up and loosens the knot around his neck and then rolls out his shoulders. He tries to ignore the rumblings of zeppelins overhead and the faint humming in the back of his mind that reminds him he’s not _quite_ where he belongs.

He rounds the corner and then comes to a sudden stop, the zeppelins and the humming in his mind fading to silence.

Rose is standing outside an Italian café, scanning the menu posted outside, and a handbag clutched under her arm. Her back is to him and her hair blows messily in the wind.

He pauses, hesitating. He still has time—he could turn back now and she would never know. But then she straightens and turns around, gaze falling on him immediately like she senses he’s there. He has just enough time to think _that’s it, she knows_ before her face breaks out into a wide, beaming grin.

His heart lurches inside of him and he feels himself smiling back. That’s what it had been like for him, once—being on the receiving end of Rose’s smile every day.

He closes the distance between them, gaze eagerly drinking in. “Hi,” he says softly.

“You’re early,” Rose says. She gives him a long, inquisitive look and he shifts uncomfortably, feeling like his ruse is plain as day. Maybe his other self doesn’t wear the blue suit anymore. Maybe he hates ties. Maybe he picked the wrong pair of trainers. Maybe they’re not even together—no, that’s not a thought he likes to dwell on. Of course they are.

But then Rose nods like she’s satisfied and he relaxes slightly.

“I missed you,” he says honestly, with a small shrug of his shoulders.

Rose’s expression softens and then she’s leaning in, pressing her lips to his in a kiss that’s too short. His eyes flutter shut automatically and stay shut when she pulls away a second later. It’s a kiss “hello,” then. The sort of kiss she would share with him day-in and day-out. A kiss that she wouldn’t even pause to think about.

“Doctor?” she says. He opens his eyes and finds her staring inquisitively at him again. “Are you all right?”

“Yeah,” he says hoarsely. “Fine, yeah.” He scratches the back of his neck. “Listen, do you… can we…?”

He jerks his head away from the restaurant and Rose’s eyebrows rise slightly. She looks at her watch. “My lunch break doesn’t start for another 20 minutes, and anyway I’ve got this report I need to finish—”

“Come on,” he needles, sensing that she wants to be convinced. “You can finish later. It won’t take long.”

He grabs her hand before she can say anything else and drags her away from the café. Rose sounds amused when she comments, “You’re a terrible influence.”

“Yup!”

People give them odd looks as they pass—him dragging Rose along by the hand, her jogging to keep up with him, her handbag bouncing over her shoulder.

Finally, he pulls her into an alleyway. He looks left, right, and then nods, satisfied that it’s abandoned. He turns back to Rose, smiling proudly. “Here we are, then. Bit of privacy.”

She doesn’t look very impressed. “You always take me to the nicest places.” She sniffs the air and then frowns. “I _really_ don’t want to know what’s in that dustbin.”

He doesn’t drop her hand. “Judging by the smell, I’d say... oh, about a week’s worth of food scraps? Ooh, pears. I hate pears.”

She blinks, but only says, “Doctor... is there something you wanted to tell me?”

“Yeah.” He drops her hand and then takes a step closer to her. He frames her face with both his hands. “Rose, would it be all right if I kissed you?”

Her confused gaze jumps to his, but she only says, “Okay.”

Her tongue darts out to wet her lips and he leans in, pressing his mouth to hers. The kiss is soft and sweet. One of her hands curls at the back of his neck, her handbag swinging down to rest between their bodies.

He pulls away and then presses his forehead against hers, thumbs brushing against her cheeks. Rose’s warm breath puffs against his face. A zeppelin rumbles by noisily overheard—sharply reminding him that he isn’t who she thinks he is and this isn’t his life.

“What was that for?” she says in a hushed voice. “Doctor?”

He draws in a shaky breath. “Rose, you’re happy, aren’t you?”

It’s a moment before she answers. “Yeah, I am, yeah,” she says slowly, eyes meeting his. She mulls over her next few words. “There’s no TARDIS in this universe, yeah? But that’s not… that’s not everything.”

He bites the inside of his cheek to keep from mentioning the TARDIS parked around the corner. If he starts with that, he’ll never stop. It would be too easy to flash her a grin and offer “one last trip” that will never end. Or worse—he might not ask her permission at all.

He steps back from her suddenly like she’s burned him. He can’t do that. Not to Rose. Never.

“You’ve got…” he gestures at her, “that report. I should go.”

“Doctor—” she reaches for him, but he dodges around her, heading back to the street.

“Your lunch break is starting,” he says firmly. “You should go… get something to eat.” He stops then and meets her eyes, mustering up a small smile. “Goodbye, Rose.”

Her chest hitches and he sees for the first time that she’s fighting back tears. He feels something inside of him twist and Rose grabs hold of his sleeve, dragging him back to her.

“Doctor,” she says, eyes bright and accusatory, “I know who you are.”

His mouth drops, and Rose hastens to explain, “Your skin’s colder,” she says, “your hair’s a bit shorter, and… you’re not wearing your ring.” She says the last bit with an embarrassed flush before holding up her own hand, showing off a modest silver band. “And also, if you really wanted privacy, the flat’s right around the corner.”

“Ah,” he manages. “Right.” He pauses, scratching his cheek before saying, “You got married?”

“Yeah,” Rose says. “We did. I mean—he and I, we… it’s been a few years for us.”

He nods absently, torn between longing and pride. Somewhere out there, he and Rose would live a life together—forever.

He wonders if it will still hurt this much when Rose is with a man whose face he doesn’t share.

“Doctor,” she presses, full of soft hurt and confusion, “how did you get here? You said the walls were closing—that’s what you said.”

He flashes back to Mars—to water and fire and “I don’t care who you are.” He meddled with the most basic and fundamental rule of time, and then turned his back as Adelaide sacrificed herself to put his mistake right again.

What’s crossing into a parallel universe after that? What’s _anything_ after that?

“I came here to say goodbye,” he says. “I can’t stay long. Actually, I really should be getting back.” He waves a hand vaguely. “Drains the TARDIS to cross universes—you remember what it’s like. It’s more of a pit stop, really—to make sure you were getting on. Seems like you are. So I’ll just be…”

He takes one step back out of the alleyway, but then Rose grabs his hand. He’s not sure who moves first, but suddenly they’re kissing like they’ve never kissed before. She’s got her hands in his hair, teeth scraping along his lip, tongue dancing against his. His arms are around her back, pulling her in closer, trying to touch all of her at once.

Rose pulls away, chest heaving and lipstick smeared. He doesn’t have to see himself in a mirror to know that his hair is sticking up in all directions.

They stare at each other in silence. Rose rubs furiously at her eyes and then wipes at her nose with the back of her hand, sniffing. He frowns and digs through his pockets, fingers reaching for a tissue that doesn’t materialize. Finally, giving up, he holds his sleeve out in front of Rose.

She blinks at it through her tears before gratefully wiping her eyes with his sleeve, managing a watery smile.

“Rose,” he says, shaking his sleeve out after she’s finished with it, “you understand why I left you, don’t you?”

“Yeah, I do,” she says, “most of the time, anyway.”

He cracks a smile. “But you’re happy?”

“I am, yeah.”

It’s comforting to know that he got something right. He hasn’t had enough of those lately.

“You said you came to say goodbye,” Rose continues, “does that mean…?”

He shrugs ambiguously. She doesn’t need to know about “your song is ending soon” or any of it. That’s not how he wants her to remember him.

Besides, she’s got another Doctor to look after now. She doesn’t need his burdens to bear as well.

“Listen,” he says, “I really need to…”

“Go, yeah,” Rose says. She musters up a smile, looking close to tears again. “Besides, I wouldn’t want my husband catching me snogging some strange man in an alleyway.”

The joke falls flat and he looks away, scratching at his neck and trying to think of something else to say. “Think of me sometimes?” he finally settles on.

“I will,” Rose says, sounding choked up. “And I… I love you, yeah? No matter what you look like or who you are. I don’t think I could stop if I tried.”

“Tell me about it,” he says, pleased when he gets a small laugh in return. It’s the closest he’s ever come to saying it, and it’s not lost on either of them. “Goodbye, Rose Tyler.”

“Bye,” she whispers. She opens her mouth, looking like she wants to say more, but then closes it again resolutely. Instead she holds his gaze, silent and waiting.

He turns away first.


End file.
